


Time Gone By

by Zack_Fairs_Booty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Death, Emotional Abuse, M/M, Past references, Post Season 5, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Mutilation, Sexual Abuse, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, depressed, im new dont judge my tags, recovering, self-deprication, slow build romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:19:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zack_Fairs_Booty/pseuds/Zack_Fairs_Booty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Dean lives his life with Cas instead of Lisa and Ben after Sam is thrown in the pit with Michael and Lucifer. </p><p>Dean is handling Sam's death as best as he can, receiving emotional and psychological help from Castiel. Pushing forward with his life, however, opens up the gates of his aggressive past. Their relationship becomes more intense as Dean allows Cas to break through the iron bars surrounding his heart. Unfortunately, it will take a little more than the love of an Angel to help re-construct the crumbling foundation supporting Dean's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is pretty short, reason being that it is basically an intro and I won't have the motivation to keep writing if I don't put something out there. The next chapter will be much longer and you will get a better premise to what the story will be about, and will update by the end of the week.

Dean turned restlessly on the lumpy motel mattress. It was so strange, to look over at the empty queen sized bed across from him. His stomach churned at the events that had occurred only hours ago, and he knew he wasn't about to get any sleep. He swung his legs over the side and rubbed his eyes until he saw spots.

He didn't want to sleep anyways. He wanted to punch God in the face and demand he bring his little brother back. He wanted everything to be okay again. But he made a promise to Sammy. While he hated himself for making that promise, he just...couldn't bring himself to break it. But he also couldn't bring himself to move on with Lisa and Ben like Sam had asked him to do, no matter how much Dean cared about them. He wasn't ready to start a family when he had just lost the last member of his own. Granted, there was still Bobby, but even things with him were strained. Losing Sam was like losing a son, so he was hurting too. Dean didn't want to be a painful reminder like he was to John when Mary died or when Sam left for Stanford.

But what was he supposed to do? Continue hunting, alone? No, he couldn't do that either. It was against what Sam wanted him to do. Besides, hunting wouldn't be the same without his pain in the ass little brother. He would never be able to hunt again.

He finally got up from the bed and crossed the room to the mini-fridge that sat under the small counter. He grabbed a beer and muttered "It's five o'clock somewhere" before sitting at the table in the corner of the room. He cracked the bottle open and took a long swig, pulling John's journal closer.

Neither he nor Sam had ever documented in this thing before, but now it just seemed right. He flipped open to the nearest empty page and stared blankly. He had no clue what to write . It seemed fair to describe the Angels, in case this ever fell into the hands of another hunter. But at the same time, he didn't care about them. He only cared about Sam. So that's what he decided to write about. Dean didn't have a body to bury, no headstone to mourn at, and no funeral to talk about all good things Sam Winchester. He deserved some kind of memorial.

Sam Winchester  
May 2nd, 1983-March 29th, 2010

His heart dropped to his stomach. What was he even supposed to say? That Sam was a "good man"? That he lived a "long and fruitful life"? Everything seemed so cliche, and didn't amount to what Sam deserved.  
The more he stared at those two dates on top of the yellowing paper, the angrier he became. Nothing good could be written on this page because nothing good ever happened to them.

"Just write whatever comes to mind." Cas's deep voice resonated from behind Dean, causing him to jump and knock over his beer.

"Dammit, Cas." he grumbled, quickly closing the journal. He hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to mop up the mess. "What do you want?" he shot. "I thought you had better things to do than stick around down here."

"I just came to make sure you were alright, Dean." he frowned, slightly tilting his head. "Why are you angry with me?"

Dean leaned against the table, his head swimming. "Angels." he sighed. "You're so dense, you know that?"  
"You of all people know that I would pull Sam out if I could." Cas stated boldly, his body completely still. "I just came to check in on you."

Dean threw the towel into the bathroom and went back to lie down on the bed. "It's fine, Cas. You don't need to pretend to care about me and come around to check in. I can manage without you." he swung his legs in and covered himself with the cool bed sheets.

Cas followed him and perched on the edge of the opposite bed. "I'm not pretending. I know you can manage without me, and anyone else for that matter. But it's okay to need people, Dean. It's human nature."

"What do you know about human nature?" Dean scorned.

"I have watched over humans for centuries. I may have trouble acting like one and understanding them, but that doesn't mean I am oblivious." he looked down and fiddled with his fingers. "Sam asked that you stay with Lisa, and you're hesitating." he glanced back up, concern spreading over his face. "Why?"

"I'm not going to just show up on her doorstep like some damn dog!" Dean snapped, glaring at the Angel. He took a deep breath, trying to bring his blood pressure back down to keep his cool. "I don't want to dump all of my problems on her, you know?She deserves more than some broken ex-righteous man."

Cas looked at him pitifully, causing Dean to roll over turn the other way. "I don't want you to stick around Cas. You're needed elsewhere, alright? I'll figure things out for myself down here. I'll be fine without you." he tried to determine how much of a lie that was, and if Cas was able to catch on to him.

He heard the springs pop back up as Cas's weight lifted from the mattress. That was it. He pushed him too far, and now Cas was gone, probably never coming back. He pressed his eyes closed, willing himself to fall asleep. Then he could feel the bed sink down as if someone had sat next to him.

He opened his eyes and frowned. "I thought you left."

Cas's mouth twitched up. "I'm not leaving you Dean. I have unfinished business down here. With you." he stroked the cover of John's journal. "Writing an epitaph for someone is hard. What's even harder is letting those thoughts bottle up in your mind. They'll start to eat away at you, slowly killing all of your faith, which you can't afford to lose." he smiled.

"I would have faith if there were a reason to." Dean mumbled, avoiding Cas's attempt at humor.

"It's so easy to blame God for the bad things that happen in one's life. But you need to remember, Dean, there are eight billion people on this Earth. If every good person got what they wanted, there would be no good people left. Only spoiled, corrupt, beings."

"So why not just give things to people who deserve it?" he questioned, shoving another pillow under his head to more easily meet Cas's eyes.

"If all good beings got what they wanted, the world would be in chaos. Just because a person is good, doesn't mean the things that they want are. Sam got what he wanted, in the end. From the beginning of time, he has always got what he wanted. He wanted to get out of the hunter lifestyle and go to college. He wanted to find John. He wanted to avenge Mary and Jessica. He wanted to rekindle his relationship with you. To accept his powers and let himself become a monster. For his brother to come back from the dead. To trust Ruby and kill Lilith. To say yes to Lucifer and stop the apocalypse. An abomination he may have been, but his wishes were always with the best interest of others. A good man followed by an omen that gave him what he wanted while making him suffer undesirable consequences."

"He didn't want to die. He didn't deserve to die. I should have said yes to Michael and dove into that pit with him." Dean said, choking a little on his words.

"His death was a consequence of his wishes. His and your wishes always seem to come with great costs. Which is unfortunate to say the least, as I want nothing but the best for you Dean."

Cas rested his hand on the side of Dean's face. At first, Dean wanted to brush it away and call Cas out. But it felt nice. It was warm and comforting, and Dean couldn't remember the last time he had physically been comfortable with another being. Even when sleeping with women, there was no comfort. It was always a sort of hit it and run type of deal. There was never any morning after care. He could never just make a cup of coffee and lay down with a girl and watch morning cartoons for a few hours. They were always in a rush to leave and move on from their poor night before choices. It was no surprise to Dean why his sense of self worth was so low. Nobody ever wanted to stick around with him. Though, he never blamed them. Why would they?

"This is a fresh start for you." Cas said, giving Dean's ear a little tug, as if to assure that he was still awake. "If there's a way to save Sam, I'll be the first to sign up. But until then, you need to start living your life. Buy a house. Find a real job. Maybe get a dog or something. Dean, this is your chance to begin again, your past cast aside."

Dean began to lean into Cas's hand, which was now softly combing through his light brown hair. "I'm not ready to move on, Cas. But I can't...I can't be alone." he half whimpered, realizing this fact for himself. "I'm damaged. And when I had Sam, I had a purpose. But he's gone. And I don't want to be a burden to anyone else. I can't go and be with somebody just to try and fill that empty gap. It isn't fair to them." he bit his tongue to keep from letting any tears out. "It's a catch twenty two, really." he sighed. "I can't be alone, but I can't be with anyone."  
Cas's hand moved down to Dean's neck, giving it a light rub. Since when was Cas able to be affectionate like this? Dean wasn't used to this version at all. He felt like he should be weirded out, but...it was so nice. He didn't want him to stop.

"Well, if you don't find someone, you leave me no choice. I'll have to stay with you until you're ready to move on."

Dean's furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you better than anyone else, Dean. I've seen your soul in its rawest form. There's something you need to know about our relationship. When I pulled you out of Hell, I didn't only leave a mark on your vessel."

Dean's hand automatically moved up to his shoulder where a fading burn scar of Cas's hand would forever be. "How do you mean?"

"Like I mentioned, I have seen your soul in its rawest most pure form. When I pulled you out...I left a mark on your soul as well, Dean."

Dean sat up, pushing Cas's hand away from him. "You marked my soul? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get mad about it." Cas frowned. "It only means that you and I will forever be connected. Whether you like it or not. It also means that I...I bonded with you."

Dean was utterly violated. "So what, I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life? Like an annoying shoulder Angel that won't shut up?" he regretted getting so upset, but he couldn't help it. His emotions were all over the place.

"Of course not." Cas said defensively. "Dean, all it means is that I have seen everything you have. I know you like the back of my hand. There is nothing that has ever happened to you that I don't know of. Before you get even more angry, hear me out. You don't have to explain anything to me like you would to Lisa. You don't have to try to win me over, or convince me that you're worthy of my time because I already know you are. I can stay with you Dean. You'll never have to be alone."

Dean didn't know what to say to that. It made sense, in a way. It would be odd if there weren't some kind of soulful connection when they traveled through Hell together,but he'd never really given it any thought. And Cas had never mentioned anything like this before.

Cas hesitated before adding, "If you'll have me, of course. If you prefer a different lifestyle, I understand-"  
"No." Dean said quickly. "I mean, uh...I will. I would like that. If you stayed with me."

Cas cleared his throat. "Good. It's not like I need to stay forever, I just...I owe you Dean. For as long as you need me, I'll be here."

Dean chuckled and readjusted his posture. "Is this your way of asking me out, Cas?" he joked.

Cas cocked his head. "Out where?"

"Never mind." Dean huffed. "Cas...when you say you know everything, about my past, do you really mean it?"

"Yes." he answered simply. "Every memory and event that has happened in your life between your birth and your resurrection is no secret to me."

Dean folded his arms, his ears beginning to burn with embarrassment. "Kind of humiliating."

Cas shrugged. "Dean, you have always done what you needed to do. I'm not here to judge your past actions and decisions." he moved his hand to Dean's thigh, causing Dean to shoot him a questioning look. "But if you ever need to talk-"

"No no no." Dean blurted out, pulling his leg away from Cas. "That's not the kind of relationship I want with you. And I don't need to talk about anything. It's all in the past. So just stop." Cas understood in that moment that Dean would never talk about the things of his past. At least, not now. Not under these circumstances.

Cas nodded, picking the journal up once again.

"Since when did you become so...touchy." Dean added, changing the subject.

"I may have lost a little common humanity sense, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to comfort people who are in need."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, personal space, okay?"

Immediately, Cas got off of the bed. He turned back to Dean and tossed the journal at him. "Write whatever you want about him. Act like you are the only one who will ever read it. Let your deepest thoughts bleed onto that paper as if this is the last time you will ever be able to think about your brother again." he pulled off his khaki colored overcoat and hung it on the bed post. "Do you happen to have something I can wear to sleep?"

Dean frowned at the sudden change in conversation, but asked "Since when do Angels need sleep?"

"Well, we don't. But I will at least go about the actions and try to be as human as possible for you."

"You sure are a weird guy, you know that?" Dean said, hiding a half smile as he got out of bed to rummage through his duffel bag for extra clothes. He pulled out a pair of lounge pants and a plain gray t-shirt."These might be a little big."

"These were Sam's." Cas stated, feeling the fabric.

"Yeah, sorry, I don't have any extra clean ones..."

Cas nodded. "We'll go shopping tomorrow. I'll buy more appropriate clothing."

He began to strip everything off and change in the middle of the room. Dean didn't even realize he was watching Cas until he started to pull down his underwear. Dean's face burned hot and he turned back to walk to his bed.

"Just so you know," he called over his shoulder, "you can change in the bathroom for privacy."

Cas tugged down his shirt and made his way to the bed Sam normally would occupy. "I wasn't aware that nudity was offensive to you."

Dean tucked himself under his own covers, looking Cas up and down quickly. It was strange to see him in something so informal. "It isn't offensive, it's a respect thing. Don't drop down to your skins in front of me."

"Whatever you say, boss." Cas crawled into his bed and curled up in a ball under the top blanket.

Dean realized that if Cas was serious about being human, he was going to need a lot of coaching. Starting with motel beds. "Uhh, Cas? You might want to go under the sheets instead. They usually don't wash the top blanket."

"That's disgusting." he responded, ripping the blanket off of him and throwing it onto the floor. "Are they unaware of the going-ons that occur on top of these?"

Dean chuckled. "I don't think they really care." he threw his own onto the floor, pulling the fresh sheet up to his chin. Cas followed suite.

"Goodnight, Dean."

Emptiness filled his chest again as it was unsettling to hear those words come out of somebody else's mouth. "Night, Cas." And with a silent prayer, "Night night, Sammy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm a week late with this one...if you decide to continue reading these, I will probably never be on time. I'm a bad person. But I HOPE to have an update every two weeks now.
> 
> This chapter is slowly paced, so again, sorry.

When Dean woke up in the morning, Cas was already out of bed and pouring a cup of coffee.

"How was your 'not' sleep?" Dean said, rubbing his eyes and forehead. His own slumber had been terrible, full of restlessness, and to his surprise, nightmares. He hadn't had bad dreams since, well...Hell. Given his line of work, you would think he would have them quite often. However, Dean always assumed that he never had nightmares because the things he saw when he was awake were terrifying enough.

"It went well." Cas replied, handing Dean a steaming cup. "I mainly just watched you, which was very unsettling for both of us, I'm sure."

Dean choked on his first sip of the coffee. "Why would you do that?"

Cas shrugged. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Uhh, turn on the T.V maybe? Read a book?" Dean suggested. "You know what, you're probably the reason why I slept like crap. That's just creepy, man."

"I may have been a factor, but definitely not the leading one. You were having nightmares." Cas stated, matter of factly.

"What makes you think that?" Dean asked defensively, setting the cup down on his night stand.

"I used to watch Sam go into fits when he slept. Later on, he would talk to you about the nightmares he had. You were going into those same kinds of fits. Of course, yours were a bit more violent than his were, but that's not much of a surprise." he sat on the at the foot of Dean's bed. "What were they about?"  
"I don't remember." Dean replied, much too quickly.

Cas sighed. "You don't have to tell me Dean, but don't lie to me about it either."

Dean threw the sheets off of himself and hopped out of bed. "Alright, yeah. I remember every last bit. But I'm not about to talk about it." he grabbed a clean set of clothes. "We can go do your clothes shopping or whatever after I'm done taking a shower."

"We can take one together to save time-"

"Cas!" Dean yelled. "No, we do not shower together. If you and your Angel ass need to scrub down, then you take one on your own."

Cas smiled and stood up from the bed. "I was kidding, Dean. Personal space."

Dean shook his head, acting like he was irritated, but it was a total front. There was no way they would be able to live together if Cas didn't have a sense of humor, and it seemed like he was catching on a little bit. Maybe having him around wouldn't be so bad after all.

Dean shut the bathroom door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief, associated with him finally being able to let his guard down. He was overcome with nearly every emotion on the spectrum, but losing it in front of Cas was the last thing he wanted to do. He turned the shower on full blast, cranking it to the hottest setting. He stripped his clothes off and looked into the already steamy mirror. With a single swipe, he cleared enough vapor to get a short look at himself. He turned quickly in disgust and stepped into the bath tub.

The scalding hot water ripped open every pore on his body. He could feel his skin beginning to boil, but he refused to turn the water temperature down. 

Dean had started doing this when he was sixteen. After a few days of forcing his body to burn under scalding hot water, he grew accustomed to the torture, and would no longer flinch away in pain. He would wash himself up and then stand under the boiling water for a few minutes, making sure his skin turned a dark shade of red. In the last minute, he would crank the temperature all the way down, the shock practically knocking him out. When his entire body was numb, that was when he would get out of the shower.

He hadn't done this for years, but today he decided that it needed to be done. His body was no longer acquainted with the sweltering water, but he forced himself to continue with the heat all the way up. Every pain receptor on the surface of of his skin was activated and shot signals to his brain, screaming at him to get out of the searing hot water. Dean held his breath as he washed his hair and body. It felt as though his scalp was being torn from his skull, follicle by follicle. At some point, which he couldn't really define, tears filled his eyes and joined the water that ran down his face. Compared to the shower water, they felt cool against his cheeks. Dean grabbed the faucet nozzle and turned it all the way down. The water turned arctic within seconds, cutting into Dean's skin like razor blades. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to stand under the shower head for another few minutes before turning the water completely off.

He ripped the shower curtain open and grabbed the nearest towel, burying his face into it. Stepping out, he began to dry his raw skin, causing even more tears to form in his eyes. He gently dabbed at his skin, but even then it still hurt. He gave up and wrapped the towel around his waist before proceeding to brush his teeth.

While brushing, he questioned his current situation. Was he really going to go clothes shopping with Cas? It seemed so...wasteful? He knew he needed to move on, but Christ, Sam only died yesterday. Maybe he should tell Cas to put it off for a few days and they would just wash some clothes today instead of buying new ones. Dean hated malls anyways. There were always too many people in his bubble, and it just irritated him. But at the same time, he knew he needed to move on. It just seemed too soon to live a civilian lifestyle,especially because it would be the first time for him. He finished brushing and decided to go with whatever Cas suggested they do that day, hoping that it would keep his mind off of Sam.

Halfway through his mouthwash rinse, Cas pushed open the door and let himself in, catching Dean off guard. He ended up choking on the cinnamon alcohol mixture, part of it going down his throat, the other into the sink. A little even came out his nose.

"You ever hear of knocking, Cas?" Dean gasped, filling a cup with cold water to re-rinse his mouth out and cool his insides down. "You made it seem like you understood what personal space means."

"I do understand." Cas said defensively. "You're done with your shower, now it's my turn. And you're decent, so I think that you are sort of over reacting. "

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed past Cas, gripping tightly at the top of the towel.

"Listen. When you want to enter a closed room where somebody is going about their personal business, you knock on the door. You need to give me some sort of warning before you come barreling in. What if I was on the toilet or something? That would be embarrassing for both of us right?"  
Cas nodded. "Yes. I understand. Knock before entering."

"Good." Dean said. He sighed deeply. "Alright, some of my clothes should fit you fine if you don't want to wear that suit of yours."

"That would be nice."

Dean pointed to the pile of clothes sitting on the closed toilet. "Wear those. I'll find something else." he instructed, then shut the door.

His skin was still sensitive when he pulled a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt on. He noticed that he was still red, so he slipped a burgundy flannel on to cover his arms up a bit. He grabbed the luke warm cup of coffee from the nightstand and chugged it down, ignoring how awful it tasted with his freshly brushed teeth.

There were two donuts left from the day before, so he grabbed one and scarfed it down. He thought about eating the last one as well, but figured that maybe Cas would want it since he was trying to be all human-like.

He picked up the journal and flopped onto the bed, hoping some inspiration would hit him. He even flipped through it, reading John's notes. His stomach churned when he came to the page that read, "Today, Sam took his first steps. They were towards Dean."

He wanted to throw up and cry and bash somebody's face in, all at the same time. But even these intense feelings didn't help him think of something to write.

He tossed it across the room with a look of disgust.

*****

"Alright, where to Cas?" Dean asked as they slammed the doors of the Impala. "What kind of clothes are you, uh, into?"

Dean recognized that Cas looked good (better than good, actually) in Dean's jeans and plain black tee shirt. He immediately scolded himself for having such thoughts.

Cas frowned and stared off, the donut in his hand. He then asked, "Where do you buy your clothes?"

Dean shrugged. "It's been a while since I've bought anything. But I guess...Gander Mountain? Dicks? Anywhere that sells clothes that are comfortable and easy to move around in. Any kind of sporting store will work."

Cas nodded. "Where do you suggest I shop then?"

"Well I don't know, man." he laughed. "We could try Banana Republic. Get you some pretty boy khakis and a sweater vest."

"While the idea doesn't bother me, I sense there is a bit of sarcasm in your words."

Dean chuckled and pulled onto the main highway. "Yeah, completely. Why don't we just...go to the mall and look around? We're bound to find something that you like."

"That sounds like a fair idea."

Dean located the classic rock station and turned the volume up just enough for it to fill the silence, but still low enough for them to comfortably talk over it.

"Are you going to buy some new things as well?" Cas asked.

"Nah." Dean blew out of his mouth as he merged into the left lane around particularly slow minivan. "I've got all I need."

"Well, you even said so yourself that it's been a while since you bought anything new. And the way some of your clothes fit, I feel like most of them are just hand-me-downs from your father."

"Cas, I don't need new clothes. I'm fine with what I've got, okay? Cut me some freakin' slack. You can't expect me to just buck up and go shopping the day after losing my brother and actually be okay with it. It's taking all I got right now to hold it together. I can't just cut Sam out of my life entirely." Dean had become irritated very quickly. He felt guilty, knowing that Cas lacked proper people skills, but he couldn't help it.

Cas flicked his eyebrows up. "I was talking about your father. Almost everything you own was previously his, or is from around the time that he was still living. I just thought that since you're dealing with Sam's death, maybe it was time to get over John's." Cas looked to Dean, expecting some kind of response. When Dean said nothing, Cas continued. "If I had it my way, I would say that we should get rid of this old car as well. Anything that reminds you of your passive aggressive resentment towards John should be disposed of. However, it is the memories that are embedded in this car that helped Sam control Lucifer. So I suppose you hold some sentiment towards it."

"That's right. Our bond." Dean thought. If Cas meant what he said about seeing everything, then that meant he knew about John. This made Dean feel vulnerable all over again.

"When did this become about Dad? Are you trying to start a fight with me, Cas? How about this, new rule. We don't talk about my family. We don't talk about Sam, or Dad, or Mom, or even Adam! Alright?" he shot Cas a questioning look.

Cas's eyes bore into Dean's, which quickly went back to watching the road.

"Dean, you must remember that I lost two brothers during all of this too. In a way, I lost my father as well. I know what you're going through, I just can't express it in the same ways that you do. You choose to sulk and resort to anger, whereas I choose to be happy with that fact that Earth is still standing because of your brother, even though he took Michael and Lucifer with him.

Now Dean felt like a massive douche. After a moment, he apologized. "You're right. I'm sorry, okay? I just...gah, I was just happy to have my brother back in my life again. These past five years with him have been the best of my life. He was the only person that really got me. Even though we fought like Hell and hated each other half the time." Dean cleared his throat and swallowed hard to avoid the waterworks from pouring down. "Cas, I'm sorry about your brothers. Even though I think they're massive dicks, I know that they're still your family. These next few weeks are just going to be really hard for both of us, and I'm going to be even more of an asshole than I usually am. If you don't want to put up with me, it's fine, I understand."

Cas smiled, letting out a small laugh. "You can't get rid of me that easy, Dean."

Dean forced a half smile and nodded his head. "Thanks, man. And if you, you know, ever need to talk about your family, I'll listen." he offered, his attempt at re-enforcing the peace.

"There isn't much to say about them." Cas said. "Like you said, massive dicks." he glanced at Dean, who smiled while keeping his eyes forward.

They pulled into an empty parking spot in back of the crowded lot. Dean took a deep breath before getting out. Cas shot him an inquisitive look, but Dean put on a fake smile and raised his eyebrows. "Let's get this over with, capice?"  
They entered the mall through Barnes and Noble.

"This is a wonderful store." Cas uttered, looking around at the thousands of books. "Not the most grand of places, but just the same."

"Yeah, not today junior." Dean said, slapping him on the back. "We're here for some clothes and then we get the Hell out of here. I hate being in these places longer than I need to be."

They left the store and were faced with three choices. Straight, left, or right.

Cas looked at Dean for guidance, but he just replied with "Your clothes, man. You pick the store, I'm just here for moral support. And to make sure you don't buy something ridiculous." he joked.

"When in doubt, look up for inspiration." Cas suggested, looking to the ceiling.

Three seconds later, Dean pulled him to the right and grumbled, "We don't have time for inspiration."

They passed a lot of preppy stores with outrageous clothing. Cas didn't take a second look at them, and Dean wasn't complaining. He didn't want to go near half of them.

And then they arrived at Hot Topic. The colorful lights and eccentric personnel seemed to pull Cas right in, and Dean followed. Despite his "macho" type of style, Dean didn't mind Hot Topic one bit. The employees were always friendly and never looked him up and down in judgement like other stores. He felt safe here.

Cas looked at the pop-culture items momentarily before proceeding to the back of the store. Dean faltered however, looking lustfully at a Game of Thrones t-shirt. He shook his head, pushing the idea out, and followed Cas to the band t-shirts.

"Have you even heard of any of these?" Dean asked as Cas picked up a Sleeping with Sirens shirt.

"Some of these are familiar. I think I've seen them on the tapes in your car."

"Uhh, yeah. Not this." Dean grabbed the shirt and put it back. He pushed Cas to the next section, where the classic rock shirts were located. He pointed out a Led Zepplin tee, along with a Lynyrd Skinnard one. "If you're going to wear a shirt that represents music that you don't even listen to, you might as well make sure they're not crap."

"I trust your judgement." Cas said, fingering through the different sized shirts. "Does anything here interest you?"

"Nah, nothing here is really my style." Dean said, looking around at the rest of the store. 

"Mhmm. Whatever you say." Cas added, making his way to the register. "You know, just because you don't think something would look good on you doesn't mean that it wouldn't. If you like something, get it. Don't worry about what other people will think."

"It's not that. I'm just not used to this kind of clothing, alright? I'm a simple guy. I don't need a batman shirt, or a studded belt. I'm content with what I have."

"Whatever you say, Dean." Cas said again.

Dean's mind escaped for a moment, flashing back to when he was thirteen. He was in the awkward stage of life where he was no longer a cute kid, but he wasn't an attractive teenager. Sam never went through this stage, as he was always a cute kid, but Dean remembered well. 

He had met some kids in one of the schools he was enrolled in. They wore tattered baggy jeans with weird sounding band tee shirts. Their fingernails were coated in black polish, and their hair wasn't cut short like Deans. Well, the front was, but the back hung down to their shoulders.

He thought they were the most kick ass kids in school. While John was on a hunt, he hung out with one of the boys, whose name was Brett, and they painted their nails black together. Dean realized how "feminine" he was being and made a mental note to remove it before John got home. But in the meantime, he wanted to fit in with his new friends. Not to mention, he had an awkward attraction towards Brett. Dean never expressed it or acted on it, as he knew that it was wrong. John had made it clear that two men being together was a disgusting action, and Dean knew he would get a new asshole reamed if he were to do anything with the boy.

Unfortunately, he forgot about the nail polish until John pointed it out. He also pointed out the Smashing Pumpkins tee shirt Dean had borrowed from one of his other friends. 

"Are you some kind of queer?" John had asked him, giving him a rough shove.

"No, sir. I just-"

"Are you wearing that shit so you can look like those other kids? Are you trying to impress them?" John yelled. "What kind of example is that for Sam? His big brother making a dumb ass of himself so he can get some friends. You know, it shouldn't surprise me. That's the only way you're be able to make friends, isn't it? By changing yourself to be like them. Because that's all you are, Dean. You don't have a personality of your own. You just fit to everybody else's standards."

John had grabbed Dean by the arm and threw him out of the motel room. "Don't come back until all that shit is gone."

Dean will never forget the look he caught on Sam's face before John slammed and locked the door.

It was a dark and rainy night. The motel was miles from the nearest convenience store. Dean figured he would need to go somewhere where he wouldn't get caught right away, somewhere bigger, so he walked the four miles into town and found a Wal-Mart. He went to the back of the store, avoiding the stares from the employees. He figured that they would kick him out soon or call the cops, as it was way past curfew and he was clearly not eighteen. He found the make-up section where he located the fingernail polish remover. He grabbed the smallest bottle, a little travel sized one, and shoved that into the pocket of his loose jeans. He then proceeded to the clothing aisle. As sneakily as possible, he slid a plain, baggy, black tee shirt over his tighter fitting one.

And then he hauled ass out before he got caught. On his way back to the motel, he removed his undershirt and used it to rub the polish from his nails. John's words continued to course through his mind, and it was in that moment that Dean lost all respect for himself. He knew he would never be like the rest of the kids, and he would always have to be the man that John wanted him to. No matter how much he hated it. He would never be able to be the man he wanted to be.

He ditched the old tee shirt and made his way back to the motel. It had began to storm even harder now, and it was nearly dawn before he finally got back. He was exhausted, in every way possible. He approached the door and gave the knob a small turn. As expected, the it was locked. With his final ounce of courage, he knocked lightly. Within seconds, it opened. Sammy pulled the door open and wrapped Dean in a tight squeeze.

"I didn't think you were coming back." Sam said, still holding onto Dean's waist.

"Shhh." he looked at Dad's figure on one of the beds. He was snoring loudly. "Don't wake him." Dean whispered.

Sam let go and nodded, not saying another word. Dean was soaked to the bone and freezing cold, so he decided to take a quick shower.

When he was finished and dressed, he found John packing their room up.

"What the hell took you so long?" John shot. "Did you sleep at your new boyfriends house?" he sneered.

Dean kept his mouth shut and helped Sammy pack their own bags.

Without another word, the three Winchesters piled into the Impala and continued on their journey to their next hunt.

"Dean?" Cas snapped him back to reality. "I actually don't have any money to pay for this."

Dean's face turned red as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and fished around for a credit card. "Here, just use this."

The cashier looking questioningly at them, but said nothing.

As they exited the store, Cas said "That was a fraudulent credit card."

"Hey, good on you, Cas. Thanks for not saying that right in front of the cashier." Dean said, being a little sarcastic.

They continued to walk, but Cas kept talking. "Won't she get into trouble? I mean, have you ever thought about how much money you swindle from people while using those cards?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You don't fully understand how a credit card works. We use the card to pay the business." he began to explain. "The credit card company gives the money to the business and charges it to our account. Which we don't pay. So we're screwing over the billion dollar credit card corporations rather than smaller businesses."

"Wow." Cas chuckled. "That's very smart. Your a very modest man, Dean."

Dean frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Cas switched his bag to the opposite hand. "Well, technically speaking, you have an unlimited amount of money. So you could buy whatever you wanted, even it were expensive stuff. But you don't."

"I don't need any of that fancy junk. Hunters don't exactly strive to lead a luxurious life. I mean, we have five phones running at a time. We eat out three times a day, and go through as many as seven tanks of gas a week. We sleep in a motel room every night. We spend a lot of money, it's just not on useless crap. And it isn't easy to create false identities all the time, so we need to manage our money and make sure we always have operational cards. That's why we hustle pool and poker."

"I suppose you're right. Hunters aren't given enough credit for what they have to go through."

"You say that like the financial difficulties outweigh the actual hunting." Dean joked, and then changed the subject. "Come on, man. You need more than just two shirts. Where else should we go?"

He spoke too soon. Cas's head turned immediately to Abercrombie and Fitch. Dean hoped Cas would ignore it, but of course, he was wrong.

"What about in here, those are like the ones you wear." he said, gesturing to a flannel patterned button up shirt.

Dean sighed. "I don't get mine from here. There are other stores-" he tried to protest, but Cas was already heading into the dimly lit shop. He knew he couldn't just let Cas go in there by himself, so he followed, staying extremely close to the Angel.

He felt like a less preppy poster boy for the place. It was like they tried so hard to make their clothes as masculine as possible, and yet they still managed to screw it up. As Cas made his way around, a dark skinned girl approached them, holding a sweater.

"Hey, do you know how much this is on sale for?" she asked, holding it up.

They both looked around them, as if in search for an associate. Dean then realized that she thought he was one. "Uhh, we don't work here." he said uncomfortably. "I think he does though." he pointed to a man who was folding shirts on a display shelf.

Her hand flew up to her mouth. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "You just look like you could work here I guess." she giggled and walked over to the shirt folder. Normally, Dean would have flirted with her, but he wasn't feeling it. Not that he didn't find her smokin' hot, but he just couldn't. He felt totally out of place here and it shattered his confidence.

"I don't understand." Cas said, frowning. "You are clearly shopping, and he is clearly working. How could she mistake you?"

"Who knows." Dean mumbled, not wanting to explain it to Cas. 

"Maybe it's your extremely appealing asthetic appearance." Cas shrugged, pushing clothes around on a rack. 

Dean had to choke back a laugh. He slapped Cas on the back and said "Dude, you wanna call me hot, just say it. Don't get all Webster on me."

"Are you too hot?" he asked, concerned. "We can leave, I'm not exactly finding anything-"

"No, it's a phrase, Cas. When you find someone good looking, you call them hot."

"Why?"

Dean was going to answer, but realized he had no idea. Instead, Cas answered for himself.

"Perhaps it's because attractive people are more prone to doing acts of impurity and wind up going to Hell. You're a very good example-"

"Yeah, we need to go." Dean cut him off, dragging him out. "And you need to stop talking like a nerd. Can't you pick up on modern lingo or something? Start watching television shows at night instead of watching me sleep."

They started walking again, passing by a lot of stores. Eventually they wound up in Gander Mountain, where Cas was able to find the rest of his shopping list.

They were finally free from the mall, and Dean was excited to get back to his baby.

"So, you hungry yet, Cas?" Dean asked, mildly sarcastic.

"No. But if I am to be as human as possible, then I'm going to have to learn to eat like one."

"Right on. How about we go get something before heading back to the room?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

They found a small local restaurant located on the outskirts of town.

Dean ordered his usual, and given the fact that he was exceptionally hungry, he went for some extra bacon. Cas, surprisingly, explored the menu, and ordered a small rib eye steak.

They made small talk while waiting for their food, but it was mostly silent. It was strange. When Dean was with Sam, there never were awkward silences. Actually, if not on a hunt, they could go the entire day not making any conversation. Dean would usually be the first one up, but by the time he got out of the shower, Sam was already on his morning run. When Dean returned with breakfast, Sam would be emerging from the shower. Then they would do whatever, look for hunts or watch television, until lunch. Dean could read Sam like a book. As soon as Sam started to get restless, Dean knew it was lunch time. Even when Sam was engrossed in something on his laptop, Dean could tell by the tapping of his foot or the clicking of his pen that Sam was hungry, even if Sam didn't realize it himself. After they grabbed something to eat, they would drive around for a while, listening to music and making the occasional comment on an attractive woman crossing the street, or an asshole driver that cut them off. When the drive became dull, they would pick up a pizza and some beer before returning to the motel to eat and pass out. 

But with Cas, it was different. Dean felt like he needed to fill the silence, and when he couldn't think of anything to say, he beat himself up over it. It reminded him of how John used to pick on him, telling him he lacked a personality of his own. He was right. He couldn't even think of anything to talk about with the closest person he had left.

Dean didn't realize that Cas had been staring at him this entire time.

Dean's face went red. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"What are you looking at then?"

"I was just looking."

"At my face."

"Yes, while you zoned out. It's interesting. I can see the gears in your head turning and turning. I can tell you're thinking hard, and yet you're quiet. Which leads me to believe that the world that you just got lost in isn't a very pretty one."

Dean readjusted in his chair, scooting a bit farther from the table and crossing his arms. "Just because I'm deep in thought doesn't mean I'm in a bad place. I think you're over analyzing me, Cas."

"Possibly." Cas shrugged, also relaxing back in his chair. "Or maybe you're the one over analyzing yourself."  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Here we go."

"Dean. You rolling your eyes at my comments is just proof that I am correct."

"Can we just be...I don't know, normal?"

Cas squinted his eyes. "Define 'normal'."

Dean huffed and leaned against the edge of the table, but he couldn't think of how to describe it to Cas. Nothing in either of their lives had ever been normal, and no matter how hard they tried, it never would be.

"That's what I thought." Cas said smarty, forcing a drink of his Coke. "But I understand, Dean. I'm just trying to help you."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I know. But if you're really trying to help, then you need to trust me man. If I want to talk about anything, whether it be Sam or the freakin' weather, I will." Even Dean found truth in his words. He knew that if the moment arose, he would confide in Cas. Hell, the guy was giving up on his own home so he could help Dean create his own. He owed it to him.

Thankfully, the server came back with their food before their conversation progressed. Cas was so engrossed in his meal that he didn't say another word.

Per force of habit, Dean automatically took Cas on a long drive after their meal. They sat through it with one of Dean's mixed tapes playing lightly in the background.

The lack of conversation made Dean think about his dream. He couldn't remember it as clearly as he had that morning, but he knew the bigger details.

He dreamt that he followed his destiny and said yes to Michael. Lucifer and Michael were about to have their final showdown, the Apocalyptic battle. At first, the battle was fair. Dean watched helplessly as he delivered blows to Sam's face, and Sam tried to restrain Lucifer from slaughtering Dean. Both boys wanted to contain their own Angel so that their brother would survive. Sam was able to overcome Lucifer, but Dean could not do the same with Michael. Instead, he watched as his own fists beat his little brother's face into a bloody pulp. 

Michael wiped Dean's fists on his jeans.

"Thank you, Dean. This was much easier than I thought it would be. Your brother was a strong man. Thank him for me when you see him in Hell."

And then he vacated Dean's body. Dean collapsed to the ground, his body sore and broken from the wounds that Lucifer was able to inflict. He crawled over and held Sam's nearly unrecognizable face in his hands. 

"I'm so sorry, Sammy." he weeped. "I thought...I thought I would be able to control him...but I messed up. I couldn't save you. Like always, I failed you."

Someone lifted him up by the jacket and shoved him back to the ground, hard.

"Dammit, Dean, why couldn't you ever just do as you were told!" John screamed, kneeling over Sam's mangled body. "Where did we go wrong with you?"

As John said 'we', Mary appeared next to Dean. 

"I died to protect you and your brother." she said, looking down at him. "And you let this happen?"

Dean was speechless.

"It should have been you. You should be the one in Hell. And now...now Sam will be there for eternity. He saved eight billion people, but you couldn't save just one." she walked over to comfort John, who was crying while holding Sam's body.

"I tried!" Dean yelled. "I tried to save him. I died for him, but they brought me back. I was dead, and I wanted to stay dead, but they wouldn't let me!"

"Of course you would find someone else to blame!" John screamed. "You don't believe that this is all your fault, do you?"

"It isn't-"

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT ASN'T YOUR FAULT." John's voice shook Dean's to his core.

Dean couldn't remember what had happened after that, no matter how hard he racked his brain.

"Dean?" Cas brought him back to reality once again.

"Yeah?" Dean croaked, his mouth and throat dry.

"I understand that you have a lot on your mind, but don't you think we should head back? It's getting late."

Dean hadn't even realized that it was nearly dark. "Damn. Sorry."

"I don't mind. I just don't want you to miss out on getting your sleep."

Dean shuddered at the word. 'Sleep.' He knew that tonight would be another night full of terror. Maybe if he took some heavy meds with his whiskey, he would be so knocked out that he wouldn't dream at all.

He turned around and they headed back to the motel, picking up a pizza and a six pack on the way.

Dean dug in right when they got to the motel, drinking more whiskey than beer. He could feel himself getting tingly, which meant he was slightly drunk.

He and Cas didn't say a word to each other. Dean changed in the bathroom and then tucked himself into bed. When Cas emerged from the bathroom in his new sweatpants and white tee shirt, Dean was already fast asleep. He was also beginning to twitch, just like he had the night before.

Cas knew that it was wrong to interfere with Dean's dreams, but he needed to do something. He thought about the previous night, and how Dean had actually whimpered and cried out in his sleep. It was strange to see "The Righteous Man" go from tough and rugged by day to scared and vulnerable by night.

While Cas was studying his friend on that first night, Dean had jerked violently upwards into a sitting position and looked around the room. Cas could tell that he wasn't actually awake, even though his eyes were wide open and terrified.

Cas panicked. Dean looked so petrified, so afraid, and so pitiful. So he did the only thing the could think of.

He popped up from his bed and hovered over Dean, resting one hand on the man's slightly scruffy face.   
Dean immediately closed his eyes and fell back asleep while Cas guided him back down to the pillow.

He wanted to do that again tonight, quickly, before Dean slipped in REM mode. He talked himself out of it, however. Humans needed to feel. If he prevented Dean from having nightmares, he prevented Dean from entering his own subconscious to deal with what was going on inside of him.

But when Dean started to thrash in his sleep again, Cas couldn't refrain from resting his hand on Dean's face to ease him into a deep sleep to avoid the battles within his head.


End file.
